SELECTED VERSE
THE HUMBLER THINGS.
To some God's voice in only in the
storm, Or in a flood or cyclone gust of wind; They see His finger only in a sky That flames and glows with fiery
radiance, perhaps they hear Him speaking in the
roar That issues from a great volcano's
mouth. Dr see Him in the golden sun alone. And hear Him in the crash of surf on sand.
These know Him only through the
Ihings that thrill, And fill the heart with wonder and with awe: Rut. I se\ God in ev'ry living plant
That tiffs its tender greenness to the
sun: I hear Him in the sparkling little stream That wends its laughing way among
the trees; I see Him in the fields of waving grain. And in Ihe forest arches, dim and cool; I hear Him in the carol of a bird
That pours its clear, sweet notes into
the air; I hear Him, see Him, know that He is
there, In places that/' most men pass by in
haste, But that are holy shrines to those who
love God's greatest works of all—the humbler things. —Mary S. Hawling.
A LULLABY. Eio you hear a. gentle rapping, on the window faintly tapping. Soft as downy snowflakos falling on the pane ? 'Tis your little Dreamland fairy, in his eoqcb so light and airy, Come |o waff you off to Dreamland once again.
Fall asleep, and soon you'll wander thro' his misty realms of wonder. To the happy land of Dreams you'll smoothly climb. In earth's, darkness leave all sadness, in Dream's sunshine play with gladness, For night is day in merry Dreamland all the time.
Quickly sleep, and in our gloaming., while to Nodland you are roaming, Watch the goblins draw night's curtain o'er the sky, Through which sprites dart up in legions, letting light from heavenly regions Shine as stars in our dark canopy 0:1 high.
Sweetly sleep: Dream's playmates need you; close your eyes and sooi they'll lead you Where you'll revel with the fairies in their toyiand bright and rare; While sweet, elves with flowerwreathed tresses cut old rainbows into dresses To deck you while you play in Dreamland fair.
Soundly sleep: Dream's hours of pleasure show each minute .some new treasure To beguile your wandering spirit while you stray Through such scenes of mystic splendour that their fading makes you wonder Where, they're gone; then you'll awake, and it is day. —Wm, R. Roadman.
FIRELIGHT MUSINGS. There's a shudder in Ihe pine-trees, and the silent silver birches Blaze golden in the autumn setting sun. For the winter's hand is on us; I can feel bis icy fincrers, And the glory of the Indian summer's done.
Now the pine-log 'on the hearth-stone raises loud his merry music. And I fill my pipe and draw up to the blaze, While a peacefulness steals o'er me that is fostered by the firelight, And I dream of scenes and friends of other days.
They have come and they have vanished. Some have filled my heart with laughter: Some have left an aching sadness h. my heart. In the glimmer of the firelight they are passing all before me, And they pause and paint a memory —and depart.
All the hopes that I have laboured, all the passions that have perished, I feel again,'and scarce the firelight's glow Can drive away the chill which fills my hoart when I consider How I've fall'n from my ideals of long ago.
Ah, thou, who at these musings comesl oftenest before me, From out the silent shadows of the past, My love thai was, the saddest, yet urns', happy of my memories, Whose image shall endure unto Ihe last.
Had thy love been ever faithful, as you swore it should a.l parting, Would my dreams have all been action? for thy sake 7 Would the lethargy that binds me have n r ver come upon me, And my soul bo all untroubled and awake ?
Who can tell? And yet it seemeth as the twilight shadows deepen. And the firelight flickers brighter on the wall, That things might have been so different, that we might have been so happy, If your love had never vanished past recall.
—R. Nelson Gartside
ONE THING I KNOW FULL SURELY.
One thing I know full surely, However sad I bo, With banners and with trumpets My hour will come to mo. I know not how to meet it, ' But I shall not, turn and flee; With fife and flute and flageolet My hour will come, lo me |
There., be ijoorr- in plenty To which there is no key; Of I limes am I weary. With little cause for glee; However grey the sky-line Quite plainly do 1 sec, Willi cymbals, drums and dulcimers, My hour will come to me! -—Pcreival Halo Coke.
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Bibliographic details
Waikato Times, Volume 103, Issue 17412, 26 May 1928, Page 13 (Supplement)
Word Count
807SELECTED VERSE Waikato Times, Volume 103, Issue 17412, 26 May 1928, Page 13 (Supplement)
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